The last half.

This was a feeling I wasn’t expecting.

I’m laying in our bed, alone, wondering how this place can feel so unfamiliar to me.

I keep thinking, “I was here a few months ago and I felt fine. I didn’t feel like this then. What’s so different about now?”

At first I couldn’t put my finger on it. Something felt off. Something didn’t really feel right. The apartment was too quiet, no matter how loud I played my music or how thundering the washing machine was. There wasn’t the familiar smell of “him” on his clothes anymore, and everything that was on the floor was mine, not his.

I think it’s the permanence of being here, instead of the comfort of knowing that I’ll be leaving in a few days. It’s the changes in my relationships and the unknowable future that lies ahead of me. It’s the darkness of the winter in Colorado and the months that spread themselves out before me. It’s the taunting phrase, “It’s so close!”, when, really, it’s still so far. It’s everything and nothing, all in one.

I’m alone in a bed that should be holding two, and my heart feels like it’s removed itself from my body completely, and relocated to Afghanistan. I feel like I can’t give anything my full effort when my heart isn’t here to give effort either. This is such a strange feeling… It’s like walking through a mist towards a brick wall, not knowing when it will come, but bracing yourself anyways.

This must be the hardest part. The last few months before they come home. This has to be what everyone was telling me about when they said, “It will hit you when you least expect it.”

Because this, tonight, right here, is hard.

With the threat of change making these edges even sharper, I find that I am a fit of nerves to be here. Staying in this place for longer than a few days might be harder than I thought it would be - finding my life here, until he gets home, is going to be strange. This place is going to become more my home than his, which is ironic because the only reason I’m out here is because of him. Colorado became my home because of who was here with me… And now, he’s not here.

This last half of deployment is going to be tough. I can feel it aching in my bones already, winding it’s way through my nerves and my skin and my emotions. And I’ve had an easy deployment compared to other women, so I cannot even imagine how strong they are. This ache, this strange unease, this intimidation, this next period of time, this is going to be when I find out if I’m tough enough to get through this.

Because, right now, laying in this bed, alone, I don’t know if I am.